“You may be right, Tayoga.  I’m not one to question your prophecies, but it’s not wise for us to continue the pursuit of him, as we’ve other things to do.  We destroyed the forces of St. Luc in the battle, but he escaped with some of his men to Crown Point, and there are still Indian warriors in the forest, though we mean to continue skirmishing and scouting up to the walls of Crown Point, or until we meet Dieskau’s army on the march.”

Words of approval came from the fierce Daganoweda, who stood by, listening.  The young Mohawk chieftain, in the midst of a great and terrible war, was living the life he loved.  The Keepers of the Eastern Gate were taking revenge for Quebec, their lost Stadacona, and he and his warriors could boast already of more than one victory.  Around him, too, stood the white allies whom he respected and admired most, Black Rifle, Willet, Rogers and Dagaeoga, the youth of golden speech.  Willet, looking at him, read his mind.

“What do you say, Daganoweda?” he asked.  “Now that Tayoga and Dagaeoga have been recovered, shall we go back and join the army of Waraiyageh, or shall we knock on the walls of Crown Point?”

“The time to turn back has not yet come,” replied the Mohawk.  “We must know all about the army of Dieskau before we return to Waraiyageh.”

Willet laughed.

“I knew that would be your reply,” he said.  “I merely asked in order to hear you speak the words.  As I’ve said already, it’s in my mind to go on toward Crown Point, and I know Rogers feels that way too.  But I think we’d first better rest and refresh ourselves a bit.  Although Tayoga won’t admit it, food and an hour or two of ease here in the very valley where they meant to burn him alive, will do him a power of good.”

After throwing out competent sentinels, they lighted a fire by the very tree to which Tandakora meant to bind Tayoga for the flames, and broiled venison over the coals.  They also had bread and samp, which were most welcome, and the whole force ate with great zest.  The warriors, in their flight, had dropped Tayoga’s bow and quiver of arrows, and their recovery gave him keen delight, though he said little as he strapped them over his shoulder.

They spent two hours in the valley, and for the Onondaga the air was full of the good spirits that watched over him.  The dramatic and extraordinary change, occurring in a few minutes, made an ineffaceable impression upon a mind that saw meaning in everything.  Here was the glen in which he had been held by Tandakora and his most deadly enemies, and there was the lone tree against which they had already heaped the fuel for burning him alive.  Such a sudden and marvelous change could not have come if he were not in the special favor of both Tododaho and Areskoui.  Secure in his belief that he was protected by the mighty on their stars, he awaited the future with supreme confidence.

CHAPTER XIV